


Magic & Myths: The Lightning Thief

by adoctorwithtwohearts



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Crossover with HP, Gen, Harry Potter - Freeform, Magic, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctorwithtwohearts/pseuds/adoctorwithtwohearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skylar was different. A good kind of different. She was so different that people that were different thought she was different. If that makes any sense. She was different because having magic and being a teenager didn't seem to be different enough. Being a child of Olympus had to be thrown into the mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Returning

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! Kudos, Bookmark, Subscribe if you like! Message, if curious! :D

I entered the Arrivals terminal, staring at my surroundings. I probably looked really weird, doing that, looking around as if I'd never seen an airport in my entire life. But you'd be like that too, if you had just come back from spending 9 months in an enchanted castle in Britain, getting an education in wizardry, while trying to stop yourself being killed by a three-headed dog, a troll, an evil plant and a life-sized chessboard with a mind of it's own. So don't be hasty in judging me, if you happened to be there, my life is odd in so many ways. But I love it.

Coming towards me was a bearded man in a wheelchair and a blonde haired boy with a scar running down the side of his face. I smiled, and ran to them. I rammed my luggage cart into the boy (in a totally friendly loving sort of way) and focused all my attention on the man.

"Skylar." he said, smiling up at me

"Chiron, it's been awhile!"

"I trust you had a good year?"

"Depends on your definition of 'good'?"

That made him smile more. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, it was a pretty amazing year!" I finally answered. Suddenly, I was enveloped in a hug (attacked being the better word) from a gangly spotty ginger dude on crutches that smelled like a barn.

"SKYYYLARR!"

"Oww", he'd hit my head with his crutches.

When I came back to earth, I said "Hey Grove, good to see you!"

He pulled back on the hug, letting me breathe. "Did you get attacked by any monsters?"

"Ooh, loads!"

He laughed. "So you had a normal year, then?" He said, smirking.

"As normal as it gets when you're me."

And trust me, that's DEFINITELY different to your kind of normal. You see I'm a wizard. And a demigod. Or, well, I'm kind of a demigod, but I'll go back to that later.  
Anyway, being one of them is bad enough, being both? I'm surprised to even see my 12th birthday.

My life is full of monsters, gods and goddesses, witches and wizard, magic (lots of it) and the sort of problems you have when you live a completely mortal life, free of all of the above. So my life is complicated and hectic and confusing, but fantastic and thrilling too, so I wouldn't have it any other way.  
I turned my attention to the boy I had hit with my cart. He had short, messy golden hair, bright blue eyes and a big smile on his face that was marred by a long jagged scar running down from the side of his eye to the corner of his mouth. Luke Castellan, son of Hermes and my friend.

"Hey boy!" I said, punching him lightly.

"Ouch," He made a face, pretending to be hurt. "Hello, Thorn, good to see you haven't changed!"

"Good to see you haven't changed either, Blondie!"

Luke glared at me. I laughed at his expression.

"Well, you've greeted everyone now, except for Argus, who is waiting for us in the van with your bags." Chiron interrupted, as Luke was about to retaliate.

"But I thought they were-" I started to say, but the luggage cart had disappeared, along with my bags. There was a reason why I called Argus the many eyed James Bond, he was sneakier than a hellhound in bunny slippers (let's just say, you don't wanna know). So we all left the airport, and on the way, I told them what adventures I'd been on and the friends (and enemies)  
I'd made. Grover was interested in the banquets we had ("You mean, the food just appeared there?").  
Chiron wanted to hear about my best friend Harry's invisibility cloak ("Hmmm, reminds me of Annabeth's baseball cap."). And Luke only began to pay attention when we talked about wands.  
("How could a rod of wood protect you from monsters?") We talked about Quidditch, the subjects, the houses (I'm Gryffindor, by the way), and about Hagrid and his hellhound, Fang (although he doesn't know he's a hellhound, oddly enough).

As I got closer to CampHalf Blood, my heart started to beat faster with anticipation. "I'm coming home, to one of my homes," I thought, "I'm going to see Annabeth and Will, and all the others, and this summer is going to be amazing!" I should've been excited, or at least happy,  
But instead, my stomach felt sick, as if a rug had been pulled from underneath me, or I'd missed a step climbing up the stairs. As if something was about to happen. Not good. Not bad. Just life-changing.

We pulled up outside camp, and the van was filled with silence. I realised they were all looking at me. "Thorn, you feeling okay?" Grover asked, a look of worry on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine!"

"Are you sure, Skylar? You look a bit-" Chiron started to ask.

"I'm fine; just feel a little car sick."

I got the feeling he didn't believe me, but if that was the case, he didn't say anything.

We got out of the car, unloaded my bags and started to walk up to the camp's border, which separated the mortal world from our world. Crossing over, I let out a sigh of relief. Argus looked over, curiosity and question in the many eyes I could see.

I smiled at him, finally feeling that rush of emotions I'd been waiting for.

"It's just good to be home!" I said, and made my way into camp.


	2. Mumbledore and Johnson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skylar was different. A good kind of different. She was so different that people that were different thought she was different. If that makes any sense. She was different because having magic and being a teenager didn't seem to be different enough. Being a child of Olympus had to be thrown into the mix.

Everything looked the same as usual. Same strawberry field, same Big House, same Mr D. I sighed, and went to greet him.  
"Good day, sir!" I said, trying to be cheerful. Kinda hard when you're talking to someone who could scowl for Olympus. And the world, for that matter.

"Well, you're back then, Mumblebore."

"Dumbledore, sir" I corrected him, rolling my eyes.

"Whatever!"

I left him mumbling to himself grumpily. No wonder they sent him here. How could you listen to him go on and on for all eternity. I pitied the gods at that moment. But I pitied us at Camp Half-Blood more.

I crossed over to Athena cabin, searching for one person in particular. When I saw her, I couldn't help but smile. Same old Annabeth, stuck in a book about Architecture written in Ancient Greek.

"Annabeth..." I called, in a sing-song voice. She looked up, dazed by the light streaming in the room through the open door behind me. She finally noticed me and ran to me faster than a dryad running away from a satyr.

"Thorn!" She pulled me into a bone-breaking hug.

"I've missed you so much, you're never leaving me here with Clarisse ever again!" I had to laugh, the poor child meant it.

"What about Luke?" I asked, grinning evilly.

She blushed. "What ABOUT Luke?" I didn't answer, and beckoned for her to follow me. "Come on, I've got to make sure nothing has changed since I left!"

We wandered around camp, going into the cabins to say hello to the campers and re-familiarising myself with everything. Everytime we walked around a corner, I half-expected Peeves, the poltergeist at Hogwarts, to ambush me with Never-wearing Glue and Hippogriff feathers.

It made me feel sad, in a way. No surprises like that for awhile.  
Every ten seconds, Annabeth would yawn. I found it funny, and said, "Am I seriously that boring?"

"What! No, I'm just seriously tired!"

"Why, what have you been doing that has you sooo tired?"

"I've been nursing a demigod back to health in the infirmary!" she said, indignantly.

"Oh, what happened to them?"

"He got chased up to the camp boundaries by the Minotaur, saw his mother sacrifice herself for his safety, killed said Minotaur, dragged Grover up to the Big House while he was half-dead and collapsed on the porch, hysterical."

"...Woah...poor guy, has he recovered?"

"Yeah, he should be healthy enough to see Mr.D today or tomorrow."

"Well, you've been busy then."

"Exceedingly so."

I laughed."Let's go to the Big House!"

We walked up to the Big House, and ran into Mr.D and Chiron playing pinochle. We had nothing better to do so we decided to watch. About 10 minutes into the game, I noticed Grover and a dark-haired boy walking towards us. The boy looked tired and weak, and clenched a bloody horn tightly in his hand. He looked sick and exhausted and lost. Grover kept glancing at him, as if he was worried the boy would fall over or break down in tears. I leaned against the porch railing and watched their approach.

Percy's POV:

The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse.

My legs felt wobbly trying to walk that far. Grover offered to carry the Minotaur horn, but I held onto it. I'd paid for that souvenir the hard way. I wasn't going to let it go.

As we came around the opposite end of the house, I caught my breath.

We must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to Long Island Sound, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture - an open-air pavilion, an amphitheatre, a circular arena - except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball.

Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blonde-haired girl who'd spoon-fed me popcorn-flavoured pudding and a brown-haired girl I had never seen before, who was watching us, were leaning on the porch rail next to them.

The man facing me was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes and curly hair so black it was almost purple. he looked like those paintings of baby angels - what do you call them, hubbubs? No, cherubs. That's it. he looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt, and he would've fit right in at one of Gabe's poker parties, except I got the feeling this guy could've out-gambled even my stepfather.

"That's Mr D," Grover murmured to me."He's the camp director. Be polite. The blonde girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She looked after you while I was busy. The brunette, is Skylar Dumbledore. She's just a camp councillor, but she's been here longer than everyone else, and is kinda like, THE boss, but she's super cool, even though she seems scary 'cus she's the most powerful here. And you already know Chiron..."

I was just about to ask "She's the most powerful what?", but then he pointed at the guy whose back was to me.

First, I realized he was sitting in the wheelchair. Then I recognized the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard.

"Mr. Brunner" I cried.

The Latin teacher turned and smiled at me. his eyes had that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulled a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers B.

"Ah, good, Percy," he said."Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered me a chair to the right of Mr D, who looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now don't expect me to be glad to see you."

"Uh, thanks," I scooted a little further away from him because, if there was one thing I had learned from living with Gabe, it was how to tell when an adult has been hitting the happy juice.  
If Mr D was a stranger to alcohol, I was a satyr.

"Annabeth? Skylar?" Mr Brunner called to the blonde and brunette.

They came forward and Mr Brunner introduced us. "Annabeth here nursed you back to health, Percy.  
Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."

Annabeth said "Sure, Chiron."

She was probably my age, maybe a couple of centimetres taller, and a whole lot more athletic-looking.  
With her deep tan and her curly blonde hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a sterotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were a startling grey, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she was analysing the best way to take me down in a fight.

She glanced at the Minotaur horn in my hands, then back at me. I imagined she was going to say, You killed a Minotaur! or Wow, you're so awesome! or something like that.

Instead she said, "You drool when you sleep."

Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blonde hair flying behind her.

Mr Brunner smiled. "And Skylar here, will be your guide in camp and help you settle in."

I looked at her. She was smiling at me, and I could feel myself smile back. I forced myself to keep looking at her. She had chocolate brown hair that reached the middle of her back, pale creamy skin, with rosy cheeks, full heart shaped lips and hazel brown eyes, that were friendly, that seemed to tell me everything was okay, that she'd personally make sure of it herself.

I relaxed, and held out my hand. "Percy." She shook it. "Skylar, but you can call me Thorn if you want, everyone else does." I grinned at her, and turned to face Mr Brunner.

"So," I said,"You, uh, work here, Mr Brunner?"

"Not Mr Brunner," the ex-Mr Brunner said. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Okay." Totally confused, I looked at the director." And Mr D... does that stand for something?"

Mr D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at me like I'd just belched loudly. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

Skylar stuck her tongue out from behind Mr D. "So is that why you always get mine wrong, then?" I had to force myself not to laugh.

"I must say, Percy," Chiron-Brunner broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?"

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to... ah, take a leave of absence."

I tried to remember the beginning of the school year. It seemed like so long ago, but I did have a fuzzy memory of there being another Latin teacher my first week at Yancy. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared and Mr Brunner had taken the class.

"You came to Yancy just to teach me?" I asked.

Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."  
"Grover," Mr D said impatiently, "are you playing or not?"  
"Yes, sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair, though I didn't know why he should be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.

"You do know how to play pinochle?" Mr D eyed me suspiciously.

"I'm afraid not," I said.

"I'm afraid not, sir," he said.

"Sir," I repeated. I was liking the sitting the camp director less and less. Skylar rolled her eyes,  
agreeing with my thoughts.

"Well," he told me, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans, I would expect all civilised young men to know the rules."

"I'm sure the boy can learn," Chiron said.

"Please," I said,"what is this place? Mr Brun - Chiron - why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"

Mr D snorted. " I asked the same question."

The camp director dealt the cards. Grover flinched every time one landed in his pile.

Chiron smiled at me sympathetically, the way he used to in Latin class, as if to let me know that no matter what my average was. I was his star student. He expected me to have the right answer.

"Percy," he said. "Did your mother tell you nothing?"

Skylar's POV

"Poor boy," I thought, "His mother's just died and he's interrogated by a grumpy God and horse."

"She said..." Percy started. "She told me she was afraid to send me here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep me close to her."

I looked at him. His eyes, sea-green, looked as sad and gloomy as the ocean on a stormy day. I felt like crying for him.

"Typical," Mr D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?"

"What?" Percy asked.

Mr D rolled his eyes, and explained, impatiently, how to bid in pinochle. Percy bid.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"Orientation film?" Percy asked.

"No," Chiron decided. "I think I'll let Skylar explain it to you."

"What!," I thought, as I glared at him. "Trust Chiron to give me the hard jobs!"

I sighed and started to explain. "Percy?" He looked up at me, looked me straight in the eyes. I felt my heart skip a beat. Bad Skylar, bad!

"You know Grover is a satyr. You know that you've killed a Minotaur. Not an easy thing, either.  
What you don't know, or might not know, is that greater powers than us are at work in your life,  
my life and our lives. Gods - the forces you call the Greek gods - are real."

Percy stared at Chiron, then Mr D, and finally me. He looked as if he were waiting for the punchline of a joke, except there wasn't one.

Mr D yelled "Oh, a royal marriage, Trick! Trick!" cackling as he tallied up his points.

"Mr D," Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminium can and chewed it mournfully.

"Wait," Percy told me. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God."

"Hmmm, God, with a capital G? Different thing altogether! Let's not deal with the metaphysical!"  
I replied.

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about -"

"Gods, plural. Great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavours: the gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

"Smaller!"

"Yes, quite." Chiron interrupted. "The gods we discussed in Latin class."

"Zeus," Percy said. "Hera, Apollo. You mean them."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, sounding odd against the backdrop of a cloudless sky.

"Young man," said Mr D. "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around if I were you."

"But they're stories," Percy said. "They're - myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"Science!" Mr D scoffed. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson -" Percy flinched at the sound of his name. "- what will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?" Mr D continued.  
"Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals - they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come soooo far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

Percy's POV:

I wasn't liking Mr D much, but there was something about the way he called me mortal..as if..he wasn't. It was enough to put a lump in my throat, to suggest why Grover was dutifully minding his cards, chewing his soda can, and keeping his mouth shut.

"Percy," Skylar said, "you might not believe it, but immortal means immortal. Can you imagine never dying? Never fading? Existing the way you are for all time?"

I was about to answer, off the top of my head, that it sounded like a pretty good deal, but tone of her voice made me hesitate.

"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," I said.

"Yes," Skylar agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning?"  
Chiron interrupted. "What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?

My heart pounded. He was trying to make me angry for some reason, but I wasn't going to let him.  
I said "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods."

"Oh, you'd better," Mr D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

Grover said, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe!"

He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.

My jaw dropped, but Chiron hardly looked up.

"Mr D," he warned, "your restrictions."

Mr D looked at the wine and feigned surprise.

"Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled,"Old habits! Sorry!"

More thunder.

Mr D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda. Skylar coughed loudly. He glared at her, waved his hand for a third time, producing a can of Coca-Cola, and went back to his card game. She picked it up, popped the can and said "Cheers!"

Chiron winked at me, "Mr D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"A wood nymph." I repeated, still staring at the Diet Coke can like it was from outer space.

"Yes," Mr D confessed. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time -well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away - the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you.  
"Be a better influence," he told me. "Work with youths rather than tearing them down." Ha!  
Absolutely unfair."  
Mr D sounded about six years old, like a pouting little kid.

"And..." I stammered,"your father is..."

"Di immortales, Chiron," Mr D said. "i thought you taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus,  
of course."

I ran through D names from Greek mythology. Wine. The skin of a tiger. The satyrs that all seemed to work here. The way Grover cringed, as if Mr D were his master.

"You're Dionysus," I said. "The god of wine."

Mr D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, "Well, duh"?"

"Y-yes, Mr D."

"Then, "Well, duh!" Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

"You're a god."

"Yes, child."

"A god. You."

He turned to look at me straight on, and I saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man was only showing the tiniest bit of his true nature. I saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust,  
sailors screaming as their hands turned to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts.  
I knew that if I pushed him, Mr D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a straitjacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he said quietly.

"No. No, sir."

The fire died a little. He turned back to his card game. "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr D," Chiron said. He sat down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

I thought Mr D was going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighed through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin teacher. He got up, and Grover rose too.

"I'm tired," Mr D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first,  
Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr D turned to me. "Cabin 11, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners."

He swept into the farmhouse. Grover following miserably, after Skylar sent him a sympathetic look.

"Will Grover be okay?" I asked her.

Skylar nodded, looking a bit troubled. "Mr D isn't really mad. he just hates his job. He's been 'grounded' and he can't stand that he has to wait another hundred years before he can go home to Olympus."

"Mount Olympus," I said, "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"

"Well, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, which used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, in respect to the way things used to be, but the palace moves, Percy, just like the gods do."

"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like... in America?"

"Well, yeah. The gods move with the heart of the West."

"The what?"

Skylar's POV:

Just as I was about to answer, Chiron interrupted...again.

"Come now, Percy. What you call 'Western civilization'. Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for..."

I began to doze. I'd heard Chiron say almost the exact same speech everytime there was new camper. I almost know every word. I started to wonder about the feeling I'd gotten in the van.  
I tend to listen (listen being the best word right now. It's not like I talk to my feelings.)  
to how my guts, because they normally tend to help me in sticky situations. This beginning to seem like one. I frowned, hating it. "Why can't I figure my guts out right now?" I repeated that in my head, over and over, until I realised Percy and Chiron were looking at me. I blushed. "Skylar, could you bring Percy down to his cabin and then maybe you could show him around?" Chiron asked. I noticed he was no longer tucked into his wheelchair.

I nodded. I mentally shook myself awake, and looked down at Percy, who was still sitting down.  
I smiled at him. "Come on then, Percy. Let's meet the other campers." He smiled back, and we stepped down off the porch, in the direction of the cabins.


	3. Realisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skylar was different. A good kind of different. She was so different that people that were different thought she was different. If that makes any sense. She was different because having magic and being a teenager didn't seem to be different enough. Being a child of Olympus had to be thrown into the mix.

Percy's POV  
Skylar brought me on a pretty cool tour. She could understand how weird I felt, what with the 'Gods are real/Your Latin teacher's a horse' thing. For the first time since I came to this place, I felt like I could finally breathe. I was no longer being supervised 24/7 by an anxious goat-boy and a scary blonde. I could relax, and finally get used to this place. Maybe it could become like a home, since there's no way in hell I'm going back to living with Smelly Gabe, but without my mother. No frickin' way. Anyway, rant over, back to reality.

We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the Minotaur horn I was carrying. Another said, 'That's him.' He didn't even bother whispering, so me and Skylar both heard. I saw her shoot him a look that immediately shut him up. It felt nice to have someone on my side for a change. I thanked her with a smile and we continued on. Most of the campers were older than me. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in nothing but orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts. I wasn't normally shy, but the way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. I felt like they were expecting me to do a backflip or something. A guy around my age with straight longish blonde hair came running up to us.

"Thorn, you're back!" he exclaimed, smiling.

"Hey, Will." Skylar smiled back.

"How was it?" He asked. I wondered. "How was what?"

Her face brightened. "Great, I learned loads of new ways to kick your ass!"

He stuck his tongue out playfully. "As if!" He turned to me. "You must be Percy, Grover told me about you." He glanced at the horn, but I could see straight away he meant well.

I smiled. "Yeah, I'm Percy."

He stuck out his hand to shake. "Will Solace, Son of Apollo."

I shook his hand. "Nice to meet you."

He grinned. "If you ever need extra archery lessons, look for me!"

"Uhh, thanks!"

He laughed. "See you later, Percy. Skylar."

She waved goodbye, looked at me. "Come on, Percy, there's a lot more to see."

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe. Skylar told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus.

"It pays for everything", she explained "And with Mr D around, they just grow like crazy!"

I stared at her.

She laughed at my face, "Mr D has this effect on fruit-bearing plants that makes them grow faster and better. It works better with wine grapes, understandably, but he's been restricted from growing those, so we grow strawberries instead."

I nodded, no longer confused. This gods with powers thing would take a little while to get used to.

I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music made lines of bugs leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. I wondered if Grover could work magic like that. I wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, being lectured by Mr D.

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" I asked Skylar. "I mean... he was a good protector. Really."

Skylar sighed. She lead me over to a lone bench, overlooking the volleyball court. "I know he is, Percy. It's just...Grover has big dreams. Bigger than what most think are reasonable. To fulfil his dreams he must demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"But he did that!"

"I agree with you," Skylar said. "But my opinion doesn't count. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. And they might not see this assignment they way we do, as a success. Grover lost you in New York. Then there's what happened to your mother."

She reached for my hand, comfortingly. "And the fact that Grover was knocked out when you dragged him over the property line, makes the council question if this shows any courage from Grover."

I wanted to protest. None of what had happened was Grover's fault. I also felt really, really guilty. If I hadn't given Grover the slip at the bus station, he might not have got in trouble.

"He'll get a second chance, won't he?"

Skylar winced. "That was Grover's second chance, Percy. The council didn't want to give him another,either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. I told him to wait, but he insisted, so I persuaded them to give it to him. They agreed, but said if he didn't succeed, he'd have to pick another career..."

"That's not fair," I said. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?"

As I said that, I swear I saw Skylar's eyes turn a murky grey. "Shall we move on?"

But I wasn't ready to drop the subject. Something had occurred to me when Skylar talked about my mother, as if she was intentionally avoiding the word death. The beginnings of an idea - a tiny, hopeful fire - started forming in my mind.

"Skylar," I said. She looked at me, her eyes were now a muddy brown, not the same chocolate colour they had been before. "If the gods and Olympus and all that are real..."

"Yes...?"

"Does that meant the Underworld is real, too?"

Skylar's expression darkened, her eyes turned a steely grey, sharpening by the minute. They looked similar to Annabeth's.

"Yes." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "There is a place where the dead go. But for now...until we know more...I think it's best you put that out of your mind."

"What do you mean, "until we know more"? I smiled, cheekily, so I didn't seem too persistant.

She winked. Her eyes, I guess you could say, 'cheered up'. "Come on, Percy. You've gotta see the woods."

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Skylar said, "The woods are stocked, if you want to try your luck, but don't go unarmed."

"Stocked with what?" I asked. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. I'm guessing you don't have your own sword and shield, so I'll visit the armoury later and get you some. I think a size five might do."

I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armoury, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which made Skylar's eyes brighten up and go golden.), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheatre, and the arena where Skylar said they had sword and spear fights.

"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.

"Cabin challenges, and all that," she explained. "Not lethal, most of the time. Oh, and there's the mess hall."

Skylar pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do when it rains?" I asked.

Skylar laughed at that. "We still have to eat, Percy." I decided to drop the subject.

Finally, she showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Except for the fact that each cabin had a large brass number above the door, they looked in no-way alike. Number nine had smokestacks like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the wall and a roof made out of glass. Seven seemed to be made out of solid gold, which gleamed so much you'd need sunglasses to look at it. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the centre of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smouldered. Skylar waved fondly at a girl that looked about nine years old that was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. It's polished bronze doors shimmered like a holograph, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" I guessed.

"Yup," Skylar said.

"Their cabins look empty."

"A few of the cabins are. I'm the only one who ever stays in one or two."

I sent her a questioning look. She smiled back, sheepishly, almost. "It's a long story, but on a technicality, I'm allowed stay in any of the cabins."

I nodded, sure that I'd hear this story eventually. I walked ahead, stopping in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough grey stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. I peeked inside the open doorway.

Skylar's POV

I watched Percy glance inside. I knew Chiron wouldn't approve of it, but it gave me the opportunity to observe him. I was pretty sure if I'd told him not to, he still would've have looked. He seemed kind of stubborn. He had green eyes, that shimmered like the waters of the ocean. Black hair, the colour of the sea's darkest depths. And of all the cabins, he chose Cabin three to be curious about. If my guts weren't lying, which I'm sure they can't do (who ever heard of organs lying?), I was pretty sure I knew who Percy's parent was, and whenever Percy would be claimed, it would be the start of a lot of things. Some good. And some bad. We were in for one hell of a ride. Suddenly, the way I felt when we arrived made a lot of sense.  
I breathed out heavily, and walked up to Percy.

Percy's POV

I felt a soft pressure on my shoulder. "Come on, Percy."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Much love to you! :) xx


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